


Make Me Feel So Alive

by j_gabrielle



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Alternate Universe-Immortality, Established Relationship, M/M, Modern Setting, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Once upon a time, they could not bear to even be in the same room as the other. But the concept of immortality does put certain things into perspective. </i>
</p><p>  <i>Things like; the only other person in this world who will live to see the end of days like you will.  The only one who will not age and whither away like the others you love will. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Feel So Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Because Blake Ritson is a babe and has ensnared me totally and completely. Because Tom is witty and snarky on Twitter and I love him too.
> 
> Also because I can't deal with that finale and the hiatus that is happening right now.
> 
> ;A;
> 
>  **[EDIT 14/07/13]** : ibuzoo did a picspam of perfection that can be found [here](http://ibuzoo.tumblr.com/post/53540475857). GO AND SHOW SOME LOVE PEOPLE <333

Leonardo trails his fingers down the length of Riario’s naked arms, shifting as he straddles his waist.

“What is it _artista_?” Riario hums, tilting his head slightly. “What mysteries have you unfurled on my skin?”

Leo snorts, eyes bright and mischevious, leaning away. “None that I care to share with you.”

 

* * *

 

The first time he dies, it is by Riario’s sword. “That’s not possible!” The Count exclaimed a few minutes later when he comes back to the land of the living, gasping for air like a drowning man.

Thankfully Riario was too shaken by the sight of his resurrection to protest him running away.

 

* * *

 

“The sixties were better.”

“No, the eighties.” Riario nudged him with his big toe. “Don’t argue. Your favourite kind of music comes from that era.”

Leo cannot come up with a proper retort. Instead, he abandons the sketch he is working on (faces of the long dead) and clambers over to press himself close to Riario.

“I miss New York.” He sighs, poking at Riario’s cheek. “Riario…”

The other man swats his hand away like one would do to a fly. His brown eyes do not leave the page he is reading. The sunlight from the garden reflects on the surface of his reading glasses. Leo frowns, bristling in the lack of attention. It must show because Riario’s eyebrow twitches slightly. Setting his book down on his lap, he tilts his head to regard Leo with a long-suffering look of annoyed fondness.

“We’ll go there next week, so stop whining.”

 

* * *

 

Once upon a time, they could not bear to even be in the same room as the other. But the concept of immortality does put certain things into perspective.

Things like; the only other person in this world who will live to see the end of days like you will.  The only one who will not age and whither away like the others you love will.

No one wants to be alone. They have tried spending decades away from each other. But they were always the suns to each other’s moons, always gravitating and being pulled to the other no matter the time and distance passed.

They’ve stopped trying to hate, stopped trying to kill each other a very long time ago.

It is too exhausting.

  

* * *

 

When they saw what happened at the World Trade Centre, all they could do is sit in front of the television set numbly.

“Is this also in God’s will?” Leo whispers, tears falling down his cheeks. Riario had no answer.

 

* * *

 

Some days are so bad they have to find their release in the only two ways they know; swords and sex.

Time has not dulled their blades nor their skills. Riario is an excellent sparring partner and they always use real blades. Leo is almost as good as Riario, but he can’t be bothered to fight fair, and that almost always irks the other man to no end. They kept count on their loss and wins, but that list was lost some time in the last century.

The sex though…

The sex is good. Is really, very mindblowingly good with Riario. These days, it is as if he is conditioned to  _want_ the second the other man does something that his mind immediately associates with a previous occasion that they had forgotten everything else but the need to reach the euphoria of pleasure.

Once they got over their hang ups (Leo grabbing and pinning Riario under him and kissing him breathless), it was something they both seek eagerly from the other. Despite his stern and prickly demeanour, he is a surprisingly willing participant in their acts of debauchery. Leo has learnt very early on to never bring the matters of God into their bed. It usually ends with fewer bruises that way.

 

* * *

 

They have enough money to last them till kingdom come, but Riario still insists on working. He teaches History in the local college, while Leo lounges around the house in little more than Riario’s boxers. From what he hears, Riario is surprisingly popular with his students.

Leo sketches, paints and sculpts. Sometimes he sells his works under a different name, sometimes he hangs them up in the halls of their home. They keep residences in Florence and Rome; neither being able to steer clear of their old stomping grounds for too long. Currently, they live in an exclusive gated community just outside London. There is barely any trace of an accent in their English, though they slip into Italian whenever they are home together.

Riario keeps libraries in every single one of their homes. The books he collects are probably worth a fortune in themselves. Every year on their birthdays, they open a bottle of vintage wine. Expensive things that Leo personally can’t see the attraction of, but Riario enjoys them so he endures.

 

* * *

 

The day that gay marriage becomes legal, Leo smiles. When Riario comes home that night, he slides a little blue box across the table to nudge against Leo’s knuckle.

“We’ll kill each other within the month.” He says, eyes not leaving the box.

Riario shrugs, unbothered. “We manage to survive two world wars stuck in the trenches without resorting to pushing the other into the line of fire. I think we can survive this.”

  

* * *

 

It isn’t an easy existence. The questions of God and politics, the lines of morality blur after awhile and it becomes hard to see.

There are days that Leo will catch a dark shuttered look in Riario’s eyes, and others where Riario will see the same in his. They are both haunted by the ghosts and loves of ages past; will always be haunted by mistakes that should no longer matter.

There will also be days that Leo will wake in the light of a cloudy dawn morning, rain sluicing on the windows and the howling of the wind being heard through the house. Riario will be asleep, his dark hair falling over his eyes, sleep still holding on to him. Leo will spend the moments between light and dark watching Riario breathe, watching his face in the peace and calm.

“Stop staring Leo and come back to bed.” Riario will always say, tugging him down by his wrist. “Stupid _artista_...” The last part will be mumbled softly.

Leo will always wrap himself around Riario’s body, nuzzling his nose into the crown of his head, and lets the rhythm of his breathing lull him back to Morpheus’ shore.

 

What they have is not love, but some days it feels like it could be the greatest one of them all.

 

 

[end.]

**Author's Note:**

> Got a prompt you'd like to see me fill directly?
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Drop Me A Line Here!](http://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
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> 
> I promise I don't bite.
> 
> Unless that's your thing, of course.


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